Mob Boss
Chapter Two: Arrangements
Bella Cullen
Edward's impending birthday loomed like a shadow, casting a relentless spell of nervousness upon me. My mind, a tangled web of thoughts, strained to conjure a gift worthy of his enigmatic nature. I yearned to ensnare him, to present a gift so exquisite it would leave him amazed beyond words. Yet the predicament lay in the fact that Edward appeared to possess every conceivable treasure that this world had to offer. The mere notion of failing to meet Cullen's expectations burdened me with an unbearable weight. My extraordinary and altruistic husband, who has been nothing short of exceptional to me since the day we got married, has lavished me with literary treasures of the rarest kind, opulent journeys to distant destinations, first-edition novels, and breath-taking jewels.
In the recesses of my consciousness, I harbored the undeniable truth that his indifference towards birthdays ran as deep as the darkest abyss. Our souls were inexplicably intertwined, synchronized in our disdain for the lavish displays of celebration that extended well into the wee hours of the morning. We found solace in each other's company, escaping the suffocating confines of social gatherings and slipping away unnoticed into the night's embrace. These stolen moments, where we reveled in the stillness and savored our solitude, became our refuge from the world's prying eyes.
During Emmett's tantalizing birthday festivities last year, we clandestinely ventured into the enchanting forest, our hearts pounding with desire. Edward, the epitome of masculine allure, gallantly hoisted me upon his broad, sinewy back, igniting a surge of excitement within me. As we ascended the majestic mountain, our bodies entwined in an intoxicating dance of passion, and the celestial canopy above us bore witness to our fervent sex. Under the seductive gaze of the twinkling stars, our souls merged in a symphony of ecstasy, creating a memory we both treasured.
This year, however, held the promise of being remarkably distinct. It marked Edward's one hundred and tenth birthday, an occasion that demanded our utmost attention and meticulous planning. For the Cullen family, opulence and extravagance were the order of the day as they extended their generous hospitality to all those in their social circle. Naturally, no humans were included in the festivities, ensuring that the vampires could navigate the soirée with ease, indulging in lively exchanges without the burden of human ears eavesdropping.
Edward, consumed by his own affairs, had left me to wander the city streets in solitude, my thoughts swirling like a tempestuous storm. In the vast expanse of idle hours that lay before me, my thoughts meandered down the treacherous path of contemplation, fixating on the enigmatic enmity that simmered between Edward and Aro. Edward was the keeper of my heart; his love for me was a palpable force that consumed my very being. Never before had I entertained the notion that he would dare to invite someone else into the sacred confines of our marriage. Yet, it was during our ill-fated journey that such a possibility began to take shape in the recesses of my mind. In the treacherous realm of the mafia, it was an unspoken truth that many men led multiple lives, their illicit families hidden in the shadows. Edward and I, intimately acquainted with the intricacies of this perilous world, bore witness to the existence of such families, their existence a testament to the twisted norms that governed our line of work.
Aro, that cunning and insidious man, wasted no time in plunging headfirst into the treacherous waters of matrimony. It was a mere matter of weeks, scarcely enough time for the ink to dry on Edward and my marriage certificate, when he brazenly embarked down the aisle. But how swiftly the tides turned, for it seemed that one wife was not enough to satiate his voracious appetite for companionship. Aro, that sly and calculating creature, proceeded to acquire a second wife and then a third, as if collecting trinkets to adorn his already cluttered existence. I beheld the photographs of every single wife, captured through Edward's undercover connections in Italy. These shots were surreptitiously taken from afar as the wives graced various events in the company of Aro.
Each wife possessed a beauty that surpassed her predecessor; their allure was akin to that of a vampire. Naturally, they were all vampires, their age frozen in time, forever youthful, never surpassing the tender age of twenty-five. Rumors whispered through the grapevine suggested that Aro, true to his enigmatic nature, had forged intimate connections with each of his wives. These unions, shrouded in secrecy, were not mere façades for the prying eyes of society but rather genuine affairs of the heart.
There was even footage of Aro engaging in rather rough sex with his third wife. Aro, consumed by his primal instincts, embraced the art of passion with his third wife. Their bodies entwined, and a symphony of pleasure echoed through the room. With an intoxicating fervor, Aro took her from behind, their connection growing deeper with each fervent thrust. The air crackled with desire as his hand met her supple flesh, delivering delicious spanks that ignited her senses. Each strike, each spank a delicious testament to their shared bliss, elicited moans of delight that filled the room like a sweet melody. His third wife, a vision of pure seduction, graced the screen with her presence. Clad in a tantalizing ensemble, she adorned her flawless form with provocative liberty crotchless body lingerie. The garment, a masterpiece of desire, boasted a halter neck that accentuated her elegant curves, while delicate lace paneling teased the imagination. As if that weren't enough to ignite the flames of passion, black elastic strapping adorned her voluptuous bust and hips, adding an element of sinful allure. And to push the boundaries of sensuality even further, a daring crotchless thong, with its enticing cutback, completed the ensemble, leaving nothing to the imagination.
I had never indulged in the sinful allure of porn until that fateful night when Edward and his brothers showed me the footage as nothing more than a mere joke. Just seeing those explicit images was like a tantalizing joke to them, but to me, it ignited a fire within that words fail to capture. In a tantalizing instant, he thrusts into her with an intensity that sets her ablaze, her body teetering on the precipice of ecstasy. Aching for more, she implores him, her voice laced with desire, to explore the depths of her femininity. Succumbing to her fervent plea, he descends upon her, his lips and tongue tracing a path through the region. As his skilled mouth meets her most intimate sanctuary, a surge of pleasure courses through her veins, causing her eyes to flutter and roll back in sheer bliss. Within mere seconds, her weakened arms trembled, unable to withstand the overwhelming waves of surrender that cascaded over her, completely consumed by his mastery. She, with a seductive smile gracing her lips, enticed the viewer into the passionate encounter, where the flames of desire burned fiercely. From the very beginning, she adorned her delicate feet with tantalizing heels, a bewitching choice that heightened the intensity of our intimate connection.
I had seen the photographs of Aro with his other wives; he seemed just as crazy about the others. It was evident that his ardor burned with equal fervor for each of them, igniting a tempestuous desire that knew no bounds. I wasn't devoid of passion, for deep within the recesses of my being, a flicker of desire burned. It beckoned me enticingly to explore the intricate dance of their union. My curiosity yearned to unravel the secrets of their entwined hearts and bodies.
The wives, it appeared, shared no intimate bond amongst one another, their affections solely reserved for Aro. Their love, peculiar as it may appear to the uninitiated, was not a subject I intended to pass judgment upon. After all, Edward and I were hardly a conventional couple ourselves. Yet, against all odds, our affection for one another grew exponentially with each passing day. In our marriage, a stark divergence set our union apart from theirs. While Edward and I had endured the heart-wrenching loss of a miscarriage, our valiant efforts to rekindle the flame were met with an insurmountable hush, an unbridgeable void that lingered between us. All I yearned for was a return to the halcyon days, a time before the weight of impending motherhood bore down upon me. And yet, paradoxically, I found myself yearning for a transformation—a shedding of the skin of that former girl I once was.
The trajectory of my life had taken a favorable turn, though I must admit that my affinity for jeans and t-shirts persisted, refusing to yield to the allure of dresses. Yet, this was but a mere surface-level distinction, for there were other, more profound changes that had taken hold within me. Edward and I found ourselves entangled in the throes of a fervent chapter in our union, one that beckoned me to delve deeper. I couldn't fathom the notion of being with another man, nor could I entertain the idea of marrying anyone other than Edward. And yet, a fragment of my being hesitated to dismiss the possibility that I might possess enough audacity in my bond with Edward to grant him the latitude to explore alternative avenues.
I wasn't in a rut. I wasn't depressed; my mind was clear, and I was happy within myself. My thoughts were unclouded, and a sense of contentment permeated my very being. There existed a myriad of matrimonial arrangements, and should Edward ever entertain the notion of entertaining additional wives, perhaps I would find myself amenable to such a prospect. If perchance we were to venture down that treacherous path, I would insist upon a set of stringent regulations, naturally. I, too, would require a certain level of solace in regards to Edward's chosen companions, his second and third wives.
The thought of being separated from Edward for more than a mere handful of days is simply inconceivable. Thus, if Edward were to take additional wives, it would be imperative that we reside in separate houses rather than sharing a common home. I found myself unable to rest in the nocturnal embrace of slumber, tormented by the disconcerting symphony of Edward's nocturnal dalliances. The capacity for deceit eluded me, an inherent trait that would forever remain unaltered. Edward would find himself compelled to acquire distinct properties situated in close proximity, ensuring that we remained a semblance of a family, albeit with meticulously delineated boundaries firmly established. Without hesitation, I embarked on a journey of exploration, delving deeper into the unknown, eager to test the murky waters that lay ahead. The time for contemplation had passed; it was time to act, and act I would, beginning at this very moment.
Unbeknownst to Edward, I had secretly reached out to Tanya, whose contact details were discreetly procured from Esme's address book. In a covert exchange, I implored her to meet with me in utmost secrecy, cautioning against alerting Edward or any other prying eyes to our secret lunch. We had arranged to meet up at a quaint restaurant, where I would indulge in a satisfying meal while Tanya, with her usual aversion to food, would merely toy with hers, barely making a dent in her plate. For weeks on end, I had been tormented by the relentless pursuit of the perfect birthday gift for Edward. Countless sleepless nights were spent in the labyrinth of my mind, desperately searching for a solution. And then, as if by some twisted stroke of fate, the answer materialized before me. If I were to entertain the notion of embracing an uncertain future with Edward, I realized that I must proceed cautiously, gingerly dipping my toes into the waters of possibility. I needed to initiate with an act so innocuous, so seemingly harmless, that Edward could effortlessly dismiss my proposition should he so desire. Today, I found myself extending my hand towards Tanya, and later, Rosalie as well, contemplating the audacious notion of bestowing upon Edward a coveted hall pass on the night of his party. This ephemeral permission would grant him the liberty to engage in intimate encounters with other women, but for a single night only. But it was only allowed with the women who I found solace in—those who I could truly connect with. So, if Tanya and Rosalie were being given my consent today, then all that remained was to bide my time until the night of the party. The truth was, I harbored a flicker of doubt that Edward would entertain the notion for even a moment. Yet, paradoxically, a part of me yearned to demonstrate the depths of my reverence and reliance on him, compelling me to grant him this audacious opportunity. No matter what, I was certain that Edward would find his way back into my embrace by the break of dawn. And after he returned from being with each woman separately, I planned to take him to our bedroom and make him see that despite him being with him, I still wanted him with the same love and passion we had always shared.
Tanya sauntered into the brimming restaurant, her personal security details in tow, their watchful eyes scanning the room for any potential threats. With an air of confidence, she navigated through the sea of patrons, her gaze fixed on me. She donned a voluminous, weighty gray fur coat, its presence commanding attention. Her hair, meticulously curled, framed her face with an air of calculated elegance. And her makeup, flawlessly applied, accentuated her features with a deceptive simplicity. As she drew near, I rose from my chair, our bodies magnetically drawn together. Our lips brushed against each other in a dance of familiarity, a ritual of connection. Returning to my seat, I couldn't help but feel a subtle shift in the air—a tension that lingered like a secret waiting to be unraveled. The waiter deftly relieved Tanya of her coat, unveiling a tantalizing ensemble that exuded an air of mystery. Clinging to her figure, a pair of high-waisted black jeans hugged her curves, while a delicate black lace cami top hinted at a hidden sensuality. Completing the ensemble, a satin blazer adorned with intricate gold trim added a touch of opulence to her enigmatic allure. She, too, had tailored her wardrobe to suit her new underground lifestyle, a hidden alliance forged against Aro and his malevolent empire.
"I was so happy to hear from you, Bella." Tanya's hand settled on mine, a fleeting touch that drew my gaze downward. I couldn't help but notice the opulent display of platinum silver and white gold rings adorning her fingers, each one boasting real diamonds. Clearly, nothing but the finest would suffice for someone of her stature.
"I hope I didn't put you out."
"Not at all," Tanya said with a warm smile. "Now, what's with all the secrecy? Is this about a certain someone's big birthday?"
"You could say that."
"I imagine Alice is keeping everyone on their toes with a to-do list as high as Rosalie's heels. Stop me if I'm close."
"We're all really excited."
Tanya's body leaned in, her eyes fixated on mine. "Tell me," she murmured, her voice laced with a hint of curiosity. "How may I be of assistance?"
I cast my gaze upon our immediate environs, absorbing them with a keenness that belied the fact that I had just devoted the past twenty minutes to surreptitiously observing the motley assortment of people occupying the tables in our vicinity. My heart pounded within my chest, a relentless drumbeat of trepidation. The thought of her laughter, like venomous daggers aimed at my fragile self-esteem, sent shivers down my spine. Would she deem me repulsive, an unworthy match for Edward, a girl not fit to be his chosen bride? The uncertainty gnawed at my soul, a festering wound of insecurity. It was as if I were peddling my husband to her, and in that moment, a chill crept over me, a chilling realization of the depths to which I had sunk. Undeterred by the circumstances, I persevered, my anticipation mounting as I inched closer to the edge of my seat. With calculated subtlety, I modulated my voice, ensuring it remained just below the threshold of audibility.
"I wanted to do something a little extra special for Edward this year."
"I'm on the edge of my seat, Isabella."
"And I'm about to fall off mine."
"Well, I'm all ears."
Tanya's saccharine demeanor was so cloying that I struggled to meet her gaze. It felt like just yesterday I was consumed by envy over her ethereal allure on my own wedding day, and now I was on the precipice of broaching the delicate subject of engaging in an encounter with Edward. I couldn't evade the necessity of being forthright, despite the nauseating surge of anxiety that threatened to engulf me. The repulsion was undeniable, yet I understood that it was the only path to tread.
"Tanya, I need you to know." I paused to catch my breath. "That this isn't a joke and that Edward and I are in a really good place. This isn't an attempt at saving my marriage."
"Okay, I think you have to tell me now before ideas start forming of my own."
"I'm thinking of giving Edward a hall pass," I finally blurted.
There it was, the confession slipping from my lips, hanging in the air like a poisonous secret. And just as I had anticipated, I observed with a twisted sense of satisfaction as a storm of surprise and uncertainty engulfed her, drenching her fragile psyche like an unrelenting downpour. However, fully aware that my work was far from complete, I resolved to strike once more and confront her with brutal honesty.
"Well, something like a hall pass. I want to give Edward permission to sleep with two other women the night of his birthday." I swallowed hard when she remained silent and still, her expression unreadable. "I thought of just asking one, but the idea that he might have sex with her and have it over and over again all night instead of going to be with the other women scared me. Plus, if he just had sex with one other person, it would just feel different somehow; having two women is like giving him the bachelor party he never truly had."
I grasped the glass of water with a trembling hand, its coolness offering a fleeting respite from the stifling atmosphere. With each desperate gulp, I felt the liquid cascade down my throat, momentarily distracting me from the weight of her silence. But as the glass neared emptiness, I found myself unable to meet her gaze, my head sinking in defeat, the oppressive silence enveloping me like a suffocating shroud.
"I wanted to ask you and Rosalie. You are both beautiful, and I know how men look at you. I saw it at the wedding; you had this guy I knew from school, Mike, practically drooling in his lap. But not only that, I know someday Edward might consider marrying one or two more women, just like Aro did. And if he does, then I need to be ready for that, and this hall pass is a way of mentally preparing myself for if that time ever comes. Which it very well might."
Tanya's throat cleared, a subtle gesture that jolted me back to attention. I straightened my posture, as if her mere presence demanded a certain level of decorum. I cast a sidelong glance in her direction, observing as she deftly manipulated her hair, artfully sweeping a strand over her shoulder—a calculated move—before locking her gaze with mine.
"I'm sorry," I confessed, the words slipping from my lips with a sincerity that cut through the air like a knife.
Tanya's head shook with a subtle yet deliberate motion, her hand extending towards mine in a tender gesture of reassurance. As her arms folded tightly across her chest, a barrier formed between us, a silent declaration of her guarded stance.
"Do you hate me? Am I awful?" I inquired
"No, you're very much in love with the sounds of it. But, Bella, I'm going to be honest; I never imagined you to be the type of woman who would suggest such a thing."
I hated myself a little in that moment; however fleeting it was, I didn't care.
"Edward isn't the only one who has changed since we entered life. I'm still finding myself, and if I didn't think we could survive a hall pass, then I wouldn't be the one suggesting it."
"There's no way he'd agree to this."
"No, I don't think he will either."
"And everything is fine in your marriage?"
I was asking a lot of Tanya, and the very least I could do was put aside my own personal barriers and give her some insight into my life.
"It was rough after we had our miscarriage. I was a wreck, but then so was he. Somehow, I don't know how, but we found our way back to one another, and we grew stronger from it. I know Edward; he loves me unconditionally, and I know I might regret offering this to him, but the more we sink into life, the more I'm convinced he'll take other wives; even if he doesn't love them, he'll need them to help him against Aro."
"You don't think you're enough?"
"I'm not sure sometimes, but I never doubt Edward and me together. Not once, even when he did in the past, even when he left Forks, I knew I needed him, and I knew deep down he still needed me."
"You're asking me to sleep with him."
"Do you want to sleep with him?" I asked rather bluntly, despite my best efforts.
Tanya let out an exasperated sigh, her arms slowly uncrossing as she scanned the room, her eyes darting from one corner to another, searching for any sign of her detail. Only after satisfying her paranoia did she finally turn her attention back to me, her gaze filled with a mix of caution and curiosity.
"He is very attractive." Tanya finally and reluctantly confessed.
The pain, much to my surprise, failed to inflict the anticipated level of agony. Any emotions that threatened to rise to the surface were promptly subdued with a series of measured breaths.
I fixed my gaze on Tanya, scrutinizing her every move with a keen eye. A pause hung in the air as she deliberated her response. And then, with a languid motion, she commenced a slow, deliberate nod, as if each movement of her head was a calculated decision. "I might, just might, entertain the notion," she finally uttered, her voice laced with a hint of reluctance and intrigue.
"Really?"
Tanya's gaze evaded mine, her eyes darting away as she uttered, "I suspect there are rules to this encounter."
I cleared my throat, unable to meet her gaze, before reluctantly nodding my head.
"No rules. But for my own reassurance, I need to know beforehand what will take place in an effort to stop my imagination from going crazy."
"And what do you wish to know?"
I cleared my throat, a subtle yet futile attempt to steady the tremor coursing through my veins. My hands, once poised and composed, now found solace in each other, their grip growing tighter with each passing moment. The time had come to broach the subject, to delve into the murky depths of her indiscretions and her brazen act of intertwining her body with Edward's.
"The act itself: would you be making love or would it be sex?"
The mere act of posing this question ignited paralyzing anxiety within. And yet, the true terror lay not in the question itself but rather in the potential retort that awaited me, lurking in the shadows of uncertainty.
"Sex," Tanya responded with a swift and decisive manner, a response that brought a wave of relief cascading over me.
But sadly, my response was fleeting, for my questions had only just begun.
"Would you kiss him?" I asked the question that just broke my heart.
"…Yes"
My heart plummeted into the depths of despair, threatening to shatter any semblance of hope that remained. Yet, despite the overwhelming urge to halt my progress, I found myself unable to resist the inexorable pull of curiosity. The words spilled forth from my lips, unbidden and unfiltered, before I knew it.
"Will you ask him to wear a condom?"
Tanya's reaction to the question was subtle—a flicker of surprise dancing across her features, just as I had anticipated. Yet, despite her momentary disconcertment, she composed herself with a poise that belied any inner turmoil.
"If you want him to wear one with me, then yes, I'll ensure it."
"So... you have unprotected sex?"
"There weren't many birth control aids when I was a mere human."
"Right, I mean, of course I'm sorry."
"I will take all precautions with him, should he wish to be with me that night."
I maintained an unwavering gaze, fixated on the depths of her eyes, and posed my next question.
"Would you please him orally?"
"Yes, I expect I shall."
"Once or-"
I halted the question in its tracks as Tanya's head started shaking with a resolute response.
Tanya shook her head slowly at that, and I found I just had to nod in response because I didn't know what to say. Of all the questions I've asked so far, I found this one to be the most painful. If Edward were to agree to their encounter, it became abundantly clear that Tanya harbored intentions far more lascivious than a mere act of oral pleasure, envisioning a series of encounters that would leave him breathless, craving for more. In a tantalizing display of desire, she cunningly plans to initiate her seductive dance, teasing him with her touch and igniting a fire within him. As their passion intensifies, she skillfully resumes her enchanting act, only to abruptly halt, leaving him yearning for more. With irresistible allure, she planned to gracefully descend to her knees, eagerly embracing the opportunity to pleasure him with her willing mouth, succumbing to the intoxicating taste of their one night of passion.
"Do you have any questions for me?" I asked
Tanya hesitated, her gaze fixed on me, before finally mustering the courage to ask.
"If it happens, do you want to know that it did?"
"Yes," I replied with an almost immediate response.
Tanya and I swiftly separated shortly after. The urgency to return to Forks, to cloak myself in the safety of its shadows, was paramount. I craved respite, a momentary reprieve from the relentless scrutiny that threatened to unravel the delicate tapestry of my life. Our lunch had left me yearning for solitude—a chance to reconcile the fragments of my fractured mental state. Despite maintaining complete control, I couldn't help but feel as feeble as a newborn kitten in the face of it all. Utterly depleted, I harbored doubts as to whether I possessed the fortitude to broach the subject with Rosalie, let alone engage in a conversation on the matter that very day. Rosalie and I had forged an unexpected bond during the delicate period of my pregnancy, a connection that seemed to be gradually transforming into the friendship I had long yearned for. The return journey to Forks was a blur, as if time itself had been compressed into a fleeting moment. Before I knew it, I had arrived at the most remote restaurant in town, a deliberate choice to distance myself from the Cullen home.
It was here that Rosalie was due to make her appearance; her arrival was imminent, casting an ominous shadow over the atmosphere. From the moment I set foot in that place, my stomach twisted itself into knots, a gnarled mess of anxiety and unease. But as the minutes ticked by, stretching into an agonizing half-hour, the knots tightened, constricting my insides with a vice-like grip. Rosalie's absence only fueled the fire of my apprehension, leaving me to grapple with a growing sense of foreboding. I had imbibed two glasses of water and lime when, at long last, I caught sight of her by the entry doors, dutifully surrendering her coat. Outfitted in a pair of unforgivingly snug skinny jeans and hugging her every curve, she exuded an air of effortless allure. The black blouse she had chosen to accompany her lower half was a stroke of sartorial genius, the perfect complement to her look.
Rosalie's gaze remained fixed on me, her eyes piercing through the crowded restaurant with an air of indifference that only served to heighten my already frayed nerves.
"Tanya called me," Rosalie admitted as she pulled out her chair. "She thought it was best coming from her. Apparently you were nervous enough to ask her, and she wanted to spare you a replay."
Rosalie, with a flick of her hand, tucked back her unruly bangs that threatened to obscure her face. She then gracefully crossed her legs, exuding an air of poise and self-assurance.
"She assures me nothing is wrong with your marriage, and so I can't help but wonder why on earth you're suggesting such things." Rosalie crossed her arms. "Is this your new thing now that you've given up on becoming a vampire?"
"Of course not," I assured her.
"Then please explain this to me because this doesn't sound like you at all."
"I wanted to do something for him."
"It's like you don't know him at all."
"Aro has wives," I pointed out, finally putting an immediate end to her efforts.
I observed her subtle shift in posture, a deliberate retreat into the depths of her seat, as she absorbed my words with a quiet intensity. The scent of her perfume hangs in the air, a delicate reminder of her confident presence, as I struggle to maintain my composure in her presence.
"I know Edward doesn't want to be Aro, but if one day he does want to bring more wives into the marriage, then I have to start preparing for that right now."
"You don't know what might happen; for all you know, you might have a baby in the next few years, and that will change everything between you both."
"Possibly, but I just needed this reassurance; this is just for me; this isn't for him; I want this for me."
"You can't even hear yourself."
"You're telling me that if Emmett-"
Rosalie quickly leaned forward. "I'm not going to discuss that," she told me.
"Emmett and I aren't you and Edward. We are different."
Naturally, her marriage diverged significantly from my own. She and Emmett had weathered the tempestuous storms of matrimony far longer than Edward and I, their union etched with the scars of time. Yet, in this particular instance, the length of their marriage held no sway, for the tides of fate cared not for such trivialities. I couldn't help but harbor a twinge of guilt for suggesting the audacious notion of her betraying Emmett's trust by surrendering herself to the forbidden embrace of her own brother. Yet, in this dark labyrinth of human nature, emotions took a backseat to the insatiable cravings that consumed her very being. The concealed events of that fateful evening would forever remain shrouded in secrecy, known only to the select few who bore witness: Edward, Tanya, Rosalie, and myself. Should Edward elect to engage in an encounter with Rosalie, the illicit affair would forever remain concealed from the unsuspecting Emmett.
"I mean, for goodness sake, you two are newlyweds."
"And I think we need this."
"You can't do this; it would destroy you." Rosalie sighed
"Like I told Tanya, If I didn't think we could survive this, then I wouldn't be the one suggesting it.
"He'll never agree to it."
"Then he doesn't agree; nothing happens, and there's no damage done to anyone."
"Wrong again. There will be damage; he'll worry about what's going on with you for suggesting such a thing."
"He won't; things are different between us now. We're not the same people we were when we first met. This is forever, and I just feel like I won't regret this."
Rosalie's impeccably manicured nails tapped impatiently against the empty wine glass, a hollow echo reverberating through the air. She averted her gaze, deliberately avoiding my line of sight.
"Tanya mentioned if I agreed to this, there would be questions."
"Uh yeah, the same ones I asked her."
Rosalie's head bobbed with a curt nod, her gaze steadfastly avoiding mine.
I discreetly cleared my throat, attempting to suppress the discomfort emanating from my bloated stomach, a direct consequence of the relentless stress that had consumed me. All I yearned for in that fleeting moment was the solace of a dimly lit bedroom and the soothing embrace of a heated pad.
"Well, I guess I shouldn't beat around the bush." I paused and sat myself upright in my seat before asking, "If you were with him, would it be love or sex?"
Rosalie shifted in her chair, smoothing down her thigh with a delicate touch after elegantly crossing her legs once again.
"Possibly both; there's no use in pretending at this point."
In her usual unyielding manner, Rosalie failed to meet my gaze as we delved into matters of an intimate nature, a fact that brought me a peculiar sense of solace.
"So if you were with him, it might happen more than once?"
"Is there a timeframe to this insanity?"
"I would prefer everything to be over before six that morning. I want him to come back to me then."
The words clawed at my throat, a vile truth that demanded release. Though it churned my stomach and twisted my insides, it was a necessary evil, a bitter pill that had to be swallowed.
"Do you plan to kiss him?"
"Of course not; I've only ever kissed Emmett during sex, and it will remain that way forever."
It stirred a peculiar warmth within me—the knowledge that Rosalie and Edward, entangled in the throes of passion that night, would not succumb to the temptation of their lips intertwining. Rosalie, ever the mistress of detachment, sought to relegate their encounter to the realm of fleeting pleasure, a mere dalliance with no lasting consequences. It was evident that her intentions were to cunningly find her way back into Emmett's embrace once the deed was done.
"And if you were with him, would you use a condom?"
"I'll ask him to wear two if I wish. Emmett and I will have our own baby someday when we're ready. My brother will not ruin my future happiness, nor will your efforts to keep your marriage together."
"I'm not doing this to save my marriage."
Rosalie's heavy sigh hung in the air, a weighty exhale that seemed to carry the burden of a thousand unspoken words. Her eyes, weary and burdened, fluttered shut for a fleeting moment, as if seeking solace in the darkness behind her lids. And then, with a hesitant resolve, she opened them again, her voice now laced with a delicate vulnerability that belied the hardened exterior she so often wore. "I know," she murmured, her words a whisper that danced on the edge of tenderness.
I indulged in a sip of my water as Rosalie, with an air of determination, finally ascended from her seat, prepared to leave.
"Tanya said you want to be informed if it happens; is that true?"
I merely nodded in response before asking, "Do you think he will agree to this?"
"I guess we'll all know soon enough," Rosalie answered before slinging her handbag over her shoulder and turning to leave the restaurant.
Leaving me alone with my thoughts and the weight of my future marriage heavy on my shoulders.